


Punch Drunk Piss

by escavatedanastasia



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: M/M, Omorashi, One Shot, Piss, Uhhhhgggghhh I’m gross but I’m publishing it anyway, and she said she was into omo and I was like me too but not like actually doing it, and then we were like how would Bun act if he had an accident, but I could probably write it, my friend and I were talking about kinks, turns out he’s very polite and cries also
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-28 23:06:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16251647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/escavatedanastasia/pseuds/escavatedanastasia
Summary: He didn’t mean to—unless he did—but Jack’s never gonna know for sure. In short, Aster wets himself and yes, he is so disgusted and embarassed that he need a comforting hand to help him out of the hole he’s dug for himself.





	Punch Drunk Piss

“See, that’s the bit I haven’t quite figured out yet—the kids liked the tie dyed eggs in the sixties an’ seventies so I thought, hey, how about holographic eggs for this decade? Not so easy!” Aster rubbed the bridge of his nose as he leaned over the coffee table from the couch, basking in the rather fluorescent lighting of Jack’s new apartment. He was the first one to arrive to his housewarming party, and the pooka was a damn good real estate agent to snag Jack this place, if he did say so himself. Abandoned buildings in Burgess didn’t raise much suspicion when its inhabitants didn’t commit crimes beyond minor parking violations.  
Jack thought it would be sophisticated of him to make punch for the get-together, and Aster could barely keep his paws off the fruity concoction once he got a sample. He was currently stirring his fifth glass with a straw, reveling in the almost nauseating amount of rum they’d dumped in.  
“What about silver paint?” Jack asked, pouring a salty snack mix into a big bowl before glancing over at the sofa. Aster has turned around to face him.  
“Not quite the same. The googies must be colorful, otherwise it’s just another ho-hum holiday.”  
One of his ears flopped as he took a long, lingering sip. He attributed his drinking strength to being an Aussie—he was barely buzzed due to all his previous experience.  
“Like Christmas?”  
Aster nearly snorted punch out his nose. “Well I wasn’t gonna say that, but—“  
“But you wanted to,” Jack teased.  
“Can’t be in that mood when the guests arrive, co-host. Now let’s see if this thing wants to work with me.”  
Aster grabbed a remote control and started surfing channels on the rather old television, slamming the buttons like rapid gunfire until he settled on a reality show featuring wealthy women screaming at each other over a deflated shrimp soufflé.  
“C’mon, kangaroo, that’s garbage and you know it.”  
Aster jolted as Jack leapt up from behind the couch to grab the remote, switching it to one of the millions of superhero shows that were on.  
“Oh please, I haven’t had proper petty drama in two weeks. Whatever that is is gonna rot your brain just as much.”  
He switched it back, smirking down at Jack before leaning back, arms folded behind his head. To Aster’s surprise, he appeared to have won for now, since all he got in response was stammering. Actually, rather stunned stammering.  
“Have I gotcha tongue-tied again, Frost?” he asked smugly, only for his emerald eyes to meet worried-looking sapphires.  
“Hello?” he asked dumbly, starting to get a little nervous, which wasn’t helping Jack’s reaction to whatever the hell he was stuttering about.  
“Bunny you’re uh...peeing on my couch.” Jack kept glancing between the cushion and Aster’s bewildered face.  
“What? N-No I’m not.”  
But Aster knew, he could feel it still happening as his nerves grew more tense. Just one other person in the building and it felt as if the whole world was taking notice.  
“Yeah? It’s right there, see?”  
Aster refused to look down and make it real. He could feel it rush past his knees as they squeezed together, struggling to hide what was already discovered.  
“I’m not doing that, y-you are, you just have a very sensitive bladder.”  
“Bunny, it’s okay—“  
“I’m not!” Aster insisted, tears brimming at his eyes. To try and contain his pride he stole a subtle glance—oh God, it was on the floor now. A whimper escaped his throat as Jack got up.  
“Don’t worry, I’ll get some paper towels.”  
Aster sat there, paralyzed until Jack was out of his eyesight but still in earshot.  
“M’sorry!” he cried out, biting his knuckle and squeezing his eyes shut as his cheeks were flooded with fat teardrops. “That’s so disgusting of me and I’m so, so sorry, I’m just...” The pooka hid his crimson face in his paws, legs clenched together as he sat there motionless, only flinching when Jack flew over to comfort him.  
“B-Bunny, it’s okay, you don’t need to get this upset, accidents happen.”  
Aster peeked out from between his fingers with a glare hard enough to freeze even Jack.  
“That’s the kinda thing you’d say to a baby.”  
“No, it’s what you say to someone who didn’t know it was gonna happen.”  
Aster avoided Jack’s eyes at that statement, snatching the roll of paper towels to mop up his mess. “Fuckin’ nasty,” he muttered, wiping a stray mortified tear with his knuckle.  
“Could it be a sign of aging?”  
“Fuck off.”  
“Just asking! Unless it was a marking your territory sort of thing rabbits do?”  
“I just drank too much, stop being a dick,” Aster whispered shakily, the blush refusing to subside as his hands trembled. “I’m sorry I ruined your couch. And the floor.”  
“You gave both to me,” Jack reminded him, leaning against the arm of the couch as he watched poor Aster clean. He shooed away the malicious thought in his mind of such a stuck-up friend being so uncharacteristically apologetic.  
“They’ve already got worse stains on them anyway. By the way, I won’t tell the Guardians you...pissed yourself,” he promised, holding back a chuckle as Aster used another paper towel to wipe down his legs. Wherever the piss came out of hadn’t exposed itself this whole time, and Aster wasn’t even wearing clothes beyond his arm guards and bandolier.  
“See if I care,” Aster hissed. “Just don’t tell ‘em I cried about it. Cause I didn’t, just so ya know.”  
“Whatever you say. But you’ll need to lay off the drinks for the rest of the night,” Jack cautioned, nearly shuddering at the thought of him being the voice of reason in this scenario. Before Aster could respond, there was a knock, then a subsequent thump as said door fell to the ground.  
“Here!” North announced, prompting Aster to nearly shove the man’s large frame to the ground to be rid of the evidence before throwing himself back onto the couch, the scene of the crime.  
“Oi, you better not’ve outdone my housewarming gift, North,” he warned, pointing at the two yetis carrying in a large wrapped box. “It’s not very often one of us gets to have these functions.”  
“Keep talking with your mouth and you will spoil surprise!” North exclaimed as Jack guided the box to a spot in the corner. He was surprised at how quickly Aster had gotten back into his usual groove and banter despite his accident moments ago. And that was another thing—was Jack reading too much into this, or did Aster know what he was doing? Did he like it when the incident was pointed out? He couldn’t imagine someone so normally condescending about kinks of the sort would be secretly in love with having “accidents” with only a tiny, secret audience to witness and comfort him. Would it have gotten him even more revved up if Jack had talked down to him more about it instead of being more forgiving? If all this were true, however, Aster was one hell of an actor, and he could launch right into a monologue about holographic eggs on cue without so much as a script.


End file.
